


He Who Loves (he who hurts)

by Chromi



Series: Chromi's Kinktober 2020 [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Canon Universe, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, Kinktober 2020, Kissing, M/M, Neck Kissing, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26754205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chromi/pseuds/Chromi
Summary: It is no effort to keep – to own – Deuce. Deuce belongs to Ace, and that's the way things will always be.Day 1: Praise kink
Relationships: Masked Deuce/Portgas D. Ace
Series: Chromi's Kinktober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948690
Comments: 15
Kudos: 40





	He Who Loves (he who hurts)

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Kinktober!!!
> 
> My first Kinktober! I'll be (aiming to be) posting every third day, so the next entry is due on the 4th! I'm not following the official Kinktober's list; a couple of friends and I are just working through our own substantial list and picking off at our leisure.
> 
> Many thanks to the lovely person on Twitter who asked for this ♥

There's nothing there in the dark, save for Ace. Granted, naturally, to Deuce, there is nothing but Ace anywhere at any given moment, acting as his guiding light towards the right path ( _his_ right path - individual, personal—)

His back is warm to Deuce's front, damp with a nightmare's sweat, shivering with the cold burn of internalized hatred. It never does leave him – it never does grant Ace a moment's peace, even when consciousness is silenced and calmed into sleep.

But this is where Deuce completes and complements him. This is where Deuce tightens his hold around his chest, mouths a slow, lingering kiss to the back of his neck, and slides in closer when invited by the backwards tilt of Ace's hips, slotting together to complete the puzzle their bodies know by heart.

 _Heart_.

Ace's races beneath Deuce's palm, but for all the _(presumed)_ reasons that don't thrill Deuce, that make his own ache with a loathing for the world almost akin to Ace's.

Another delicate kiss to searing hot skin sees Ace press back that little bit harder, fingers lacing between Deuce's atop his heart. Anchoring him. Keeping him.

(It is no effort to keep – to own – Deuce. Deuce belongs to Ace, and that's the way things will always be.

He's a stubborn sort of man; the more the world craves Ace's exile and challenges his existence, the harder Deuce will work to prove that here stands someone that, like his brother, loves without obligation.)

“There is nothing and no one,” Deuce whispers, lips dragging over fevered skin, “more precious than you.”

He means what he says, radiates conviction like Ace emits heat and light both – there's no such thing as a white lie or a half-truth in Deuce's repertoire. Not when it counts; not when it comes to feelings.

Not when it comes to Ace.

“You're everything I'll ever need,” Deuce continues, thumbing what he hopes translates into circling comfort across Ace's chest, “and definitely everything I'll ever want.”

Ace doesn't answer – but Deuce doesn't expect him to when all the echoes of past fools' snipes ring bright and clear in his mind, always relentless, always intrusive as the morning sun through a bare porthole.

Ace can't shut them out any more easily than they can turn off the sun.

But Deuce will always be here with him to help drown them out with honesty and dedication both.

A gasp – a sob? – escapes Ace on Deuce's lips skimming higher, breathing him in, nose pressed to hair and kiss laved to the sensitive skin behind his ear.

“I love you,” Deuce breathes, pulling Ace in tighter, wrapping him in his surety. “I love you, Ace.”

Ace's heartbeat skips and speeds under Deuce's palm, urging him to sink into indulgence of the highest order, selfishness crowning his depths as his own yearning for what he already holds picks up.

“You're so good.”

There's a flash of heat in his tone now, but Ace seems to enjoy it, his fingers tightening around Deuce's, throat working around a heavy, telling swallow.

“You're so effortlessly kind and strong – brilliant and perfect.”

Ace whines then, a whine that is all too familiar; a whine that surprises, yet spurs, Deuce into a hot, rushed sigh against Ace's neck, _getting it_.

“And until I met you,” he groans, lips tracing Ace's pulse, eyelids slipping closed against the thundering adrenaline sparking into life, shivering through him, “I never knew I could love someone like this. I honestly thought it was a myth.”

His hand, fingers still entwined with Ace's, is guided down in conjunction with Ace's temperature _soaring_ , with his hot, choked off gasp for air, the tipping of his head back to better bare his throat. Deuce responds without thought, unseeing in the dark, moving through instinct and memory alone to rub up the cleft of Ace's ass, thickening against him, responding to his beck and call. He wraps his fingers around Ace's hard cock when silently instructed to do so, held there (though he doesn't need it, could never, _ever_ need encouragement to touch him) through Ace's hand over his.

“Deuce,” Ace sighs, arching back against him just that little bit more, offering himself, urging his partner to slide his fist down over his dick in time with pressing back, “ _Deuce_...”

A questioning groan is all Deuce can manage, this turn of events welcomed eagerly, yet catching off guard. Ace whimpers when Deuce turns his attention to his shoulder, peppering kisses to the freckles lost to the dark, knowing their pattern off by heart, loving each as wholly as he loves the rest of his captain.

“Tell me more,” Ace asks with all the hesitancy of one who _wants_ but is _afraid_ to. “Say it again.”

He doesn't need asking twice.

He doesn't need Ace's guidance at the back of his hand, steering him to stroke from root to tip, thumb sliding through the precum that forms too quickly _(not quickly enough)._ Deuce grinds against him, acutely breathless all of a sudden, stricken by Ace's heat, mouth dry to the completeness of the love with which makes his heart swell to bursting point for Ace at that moment.

He can't breathe—

—but that's not to say he doesn't love that.

“Without you,” Deuce murmurs, nosing to Ace's jaw, captured by his little gasp, his shudder, his nails digging into the backs of his fingers around his dick, “I wouldn't be truly alive. You, Ace, make life worth living.”

Ace is rigid against him, shivering, breath pulled through his nose like it costs him great effort to do so – but this time it is not the cold sweat of a nightmare that has him shaking. He's close already, their entangled fingers wet with his precum, aiding the slide over his cock and making pressing to his frenulum that much more slippery, aim off, rhythm faltering. But it doesn't deter them; it doesn't stop Deuce from readjusting to slide hot between Ace's thighs, returning his attention to his throat when Ace groans a guttural sigh of longing, stretching in invite.

“You're so good for me,” Deuce moans to his ear, pouring every ounce of emotion he can into his voice, trusting that Ace will not only recognize it, but _believe_ it.

His trust is something hard-won, and it is a badge of honor that Deuce wears with pride, what gives him his purpose. It’s what pulls him to peck a kiss to Ace's cheek, wordlessly asking for him to turn his head, to kiss around a shared breath, the tiniest of whimpers from both filling the air where teeth and lips and tongue can't hold them back any longer.

“Y-You're my whole world,” Deuce's words stutter just as his hips do, fist slipping over the head of Ace's dick, “and you're so _loved_. Not just by me.” Ace presses his lips to Deuce's again, stifling his praise, but it is quick, fleeting, as desperate as the pace he claws for Deuce's fist gripping him to take up. “By everyone,” Deuce continues, panting, _close_ , “they love you because you gave them a place in your heart when no one else wanted to know them.” Another kiss; another groan from Ace, thigh muscles flexing, pinning Deuce tighter. “You saved them,” Deuce sighs, dipping back down to lave his attention to Ace's neck, dragging a controlled, languid kiss to his fluttering pulse, “you saved _me_.”

He pauses, head swimming, on the cusp of climax and teetering there, burying his face back into Ace's hair to drown in his scent, in the feeling of him trembling closer and closer to his own end.

“ _I love you_ ,” he breathlessly declares, swears, pledges, “and I will love you until there's nothing left of me to dedicate to you.”

_(And far beyond that. Beyond what I am; beyond my flesh and blood and thoughts, I am yours. I will always be yours._

_Let it be known throughout history that I belonged to you, Ace._

_When we are gone, I hope the world sees you and me. I hope they see the now-whole person that you completed._

_They will **know**._

_I won't leave them the chance not to.)_

“Deuce, I’m—” Ace starts, but his sentence is lost to his gasped moan, the tell-tale pulse of his dick in Deuce’s hand.

Deuce feels Ace shiver and throb into orgasm, spilling over their hands with a groan bitten into his lower lip. “That's it,” Deuce sighs against him, his chest tight, his throat constricted, tears prickling at his eyes in response to the poetry his heart waxes for Ace's unspoken needs. “So good, Ace, you're so _good_.”

Ace turns just enough to brush lips to forehead, encouraging Deuce up to meet his open-mouthed kiss into his own end, coming hot and fast between Ace's thighs with a rushed exhale.

“I don't deserve you,” Ace whispers after a moment, out of breath, bringing their soaked hands back up to his chest again to lay Deuce's palm over his frantic heart. He doesn't care about being covered in their release; neither of them ever do. “I really don't deserve you, Deu.”

(He's right. He deserves so much _better_ than Deuce.

But Deuce is a selfish man – one who impersonates selflessness so flawlessly he can sometimes convince even himself of it.)

“You deserve happiness,” Deuce sighs into a kiss, one light and fragile.

One day Ace will accept all of this. One day, at some point, Ace will _allow_ himself to accept what he knows deep down to be real.

But until then, Deuce will be here, on hand and ready to chase away the demons as best he is able.

**Author's Note:**

> So!! Yes!! If there's anything in particular you'd like to see, feel free to send me a message on either [Tumblr](https://chromiwrites.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Chromiwrites)! I'm open to requests! Please bear in mind that at this time, I would only like to write about AceDeuce (or DeuceAce), or maybe MarcoDeuce if the kink fits ;)


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